


One Last Time

by AUsedMattress



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: FakeHaus, GTA V AU., Jonhaus - Freeform, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 06:15:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6227077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AUsedMattress/pseuds/AUsedMattress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Lyrics used: 'One Last Time' by Jaymes Young.] <br/>Risinger has entered a poly relationship on Sonntag's end with Kovic. For all the times Kovic has gone missing, or Sonntag has, he's been there to pick them up. Because of this, Fakehaus has split with mutual agreement into two different groups. If they need each other, they know where to find them. But things begin to crumble. No amount of substances or money will fix what can't already be repaired and jealously begins to spark between the three men. </p>
<p>INCOMPLETE</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Last Time

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to patrickrodriguez on tumblr. For you have showed me something quite interesting than Kovntag.

_I'm fading_

A relationship is not suppose to take these kind of dark turns. A relationship is meant between two individuals who have mutual interest in each other, and have a desire to spend time with each other. A relationship is created on trust, and love. The rest of it is an adventure. It isn’t suppose to end this way, it was never suppose to be like this. It was never suppose to have one’s loved partner out there in the fields. Hiding behind weak shelter that refused to obey the partner. It was wood- already a weak spot. Bullets rang around the individual who held onto his weapon closely to their chest. He was breathing heavily, his hair wet from crimson. He’s already been shot in his legs, making him immobile. The only way to refuse him is to send someone out there. But why? There’s already one victim that’s close to fallen. He’s breathing hard, having a hand over his abdomen. Living this long because of the pressure of the non-injured individual. He has a choice.

Which one will he choose?

_Much too fast, my love_

The authorities are as ruthless as they are. They have body armor, and can easily call up on anyone in the surrounding area to take out a small portion of the gang. They want to, they’re blood-thirsty pigs. They want to have their crimson spilled all over, they want to ruin them. They want to find their families from wherever they hail from, and ship their bodies to their doorway. To let them know they raised devils. The enemies, they’re shouting some more. There isn’t a way out. The idiots ran into a dead end inside of some corporate office, being fools and trying to steal something they knew they couldn’t handle. Now inside of the first floor, with their only entrance out is behind those pigs. It’s either surrender, and slowly sacrifice their lives. Or give it their all, and go out with a bang. It’s getting late, and they’re losing time. The more time passes, the lesser chance they have to escape. To rescue their partner.

_I'm waiting_

Whoever suggested going to a comedy club as a date is a fool. None of them can remember as they sat close to their entertainer for the night. They’re dressed formally, two of them having on sunglasses despite being in an already-dark setting. The entertainer chose to make jokes around them, then accused the person in the middle to get off his cellular device. If there wasn’t any couples in here, the man in the middle would of gladly revealed the pistol tucked inside of his pants. The handle of it hanging off of his belt. He has a clean shot, and could easily take this idiot down. Guess nobody told him about coming to this hell hole. Nobody gets out of here without a story. The entertainer goes on, poking at other things. The audience chuckles some, but ends up throwing drinks and mugs at the person. They cover themselves using their arm, poking and mocking those. Boy, this show has gone south so quickly.

Kovic doesn’t move when he gets a drink splashed onto him from behind. He had his arms folded, and appeared to be taking a nap. He budges a bit, but doesn’t say or do anything else. Maybe that’s why he suggested to wear sunglasses in a dark place. The drinks danced around the men, some of them hitting cold on the back while others splashed to their legs, ruining some decent pair of dress shoes. Risinger sat opposite of him, leaning forward in his seat. He had his firearms already on him, already to stop this shit storm. He wants to fire so badly, but a hand underneath the table stops him. Risinger and his partner exchange looks, regretfully shaking his head.

There’s a time and place for everything. But, a warning shot doesn’t hurt anyone. The entertainer continues to upset the audience. They’re yelling at this point, and this cheap club couldn’t afford security yet. That’s it, that’s enough. The man in the middle, sitting on his phone the whole time in his talentedly-made red suit stands up. The chair behind him falls, hitting the table. Someone was about to throw their glass at them, but it was too late. He reached behind him, throwing that jacket away to grab ahold of his firearm. When he got a hold of it, he put his arm straight into the air, and fires a shot.

The yelling stops, replaced by screaming and some shuffling in the room. Kovic doesn’t move much, he just growls lowly instead. Probably too hungover from last night. The entertainer stares at the man in red, eyes shaking as they dropped the microphone. It rolls away from the victim, falling off of the stage. Creating a loud, static noise, the man falls to his ass. Trying to crawl away. It’s not going to help. Someone moved behind the man in red, they’re wanting to get out. Again, he fires off another round, putting more fear in the victims around him. Risinger leans back in his seat, folding one leg over the other. He smirks, laughing at his partner. Of course, he tends to be the most foolish. He’s going to get them killed. 

“Alright, now.” Spoke Risinger, getting up from his seat. He turned, kicking away the chair. Gracefully, he reached to his waistline, pulling up a similar firearm. He stands next to the man, an elbow on his shoulder with his pistol sitting between his fingers. The pistol propped next to his face, wanting to shoot at something. Anything that could of moved. The gentleman in the middle, in regular reading glasses puts his arm down. He leans in, trying to wake up Kovic. It takes a second, but the man reacts rather quickly. As big as he is, his movements are slow. And he equally draws out a weapon. 

“Valuables up. Don’t have any? Tell us a joke.” Spoke Risinger. Kovic moved, going straight forward to the room’s only entrance. He soon turned around, smirking. He’ll be the final judge if they wanted to get out of there with the most valuable thing anyone could ever ask for: their lives. He stays close to the double doors. Sure, he may not have the most accurate shot, but the man has strong, rational decisions. “If we laugh, and like it. You can go home, return to that dog husband of yours. Or that bitch wife you want to divorce. We don’t judge here.” He made sure his voice was heard. There’s sounds of sniffing, someone’s crying. They’re not being rough enough.

“If you fail, we’ll blindly make bets. Mmmmmmm. How about we play: Fire Squad! It’s easy!” Risinger’s tone is always so unsettling. Sonntag, still next to him turns his head, stares on. “We’ll line you up, three at time. And take you all out. Starting. …” He held onto that ‘g’ for so long.

“With you.” pointing to the entertainer. 

Kovic brought a hand up to his face, lowering those sunglasses to see Risinger move away from Sonntag. He came close to the man on stage, jumping on said place. Immediately, he leaned down to pick up the comedian by the shirt. Comedian? No, they’re not even close to that kind of title. They’re a jester, and will always be one. There’s a slight chuckle from Jon. He stares at the other, who’s clearly shaken. If words are being exchanged, they’re going from one ear, out to the other. The entertain profusely apologized, having no idea that they were dealing with individuals who had weapons. They begged, and begged. Risinger didn’t do anything else. He gripped at the individual tighter, shifting their top half of their body off of the ground. With the pistol in his hand, he brought it closer. Having it directly on the other’s forehead.

They began to cry, feeling weak. Nobody is going to help them, nobody. Not when the entire world is against them. There’s a crooked smile from the other’s lips. Finger delicately on the trigger, he was about to fire at any second. The entertainer was a woman, who was a nobody and did her best to get where she’s at right now through insult humor. Unfortunately, she picked on the wrong group of fucked up individuals. Jon thought of something to say during this moment, but he stopped. It’s probably best to let the bullets do the talking. 

The bullet exited its chamber, making direct contact with the victim. Immediately, the victim slouched in Risinger’s hand. The terrified audience gasped, and the sounds of sobbing is much louder now. Sonntag watched that whole time, seeing how the crimson began to quickly leave a pool around the person. Risinger threw the body down. His eyes were fixated on Risinger. He’s not new to their group, or gang. Gang is such a terrible word, they’re nothing like they imagined growing up around here. No, they’re all murderers, and drug dealers. And abusers. They all know this. Jon has been with them for a little over two years. The man wanted to quit recently as this life was getting to him in age. It’s all he thinks about, all he desires. But Sonntag changed that.

He changed that way before the other expressed he wanted to quit.

Him and Kovic have been a known couple in the group for just that time. They’ve been doing this for so long, it’s a miracle they have yet to stay longer than a few hours in jail. Good thing Sonntag is amazing with hacking, and cutting into security as he is. He’s been everyone’s life savior for years. All it takes was changing a few files, and deleting the rest. Nobody knows how he does it, but they’re glad he’s with them. Kovic used to be the group leader. He used to give demands, or forced them into individuals. He retired that position when he asked Sonntag to go steady with him. Willems has been doing a great job. How does Risinger fit into their relationship? It’s tough, and Kovic knew about this way before the other began to participate in their activities.

It wasn’t too long ago, Adam had unfortunately got arrested for some incredibly stupid reason. Stressed out beyond his mind, Lawrence knew drinking it away wouldn’t of helped. He would of gone to bed alone that night, and he didn’t want that. He did his best shuffling away different lines of text, editing it and creating fake files. Trying to get Kovic out of that hellhole. It’s not a great place, not when they’re doing their best to identify who the person is. If they linked his name to the crimes they have unsolved, the numbers will add up. Risinger was staying over that night, offering to keep the other company while he did his best to fix the situation. He denied it, trying to send Jon back to his crappy apartment all the way across town. Each time they spoke about this, it turned into an argument. And Sonntag grew red with rage. He wanted to throw down his expensive laptop. He wanted to throw everything he had and possessed away.

He wanted to get rid of this fancy apartment. Because without Kovic, there just isn’t a reason to be here and be declared safe again. Risinger grabbed the man’s device from his hands, throwing it onto a cushion nearby namely, the cheap sofa that Kovic liked. They’re both ready to fight, and Sonntag was going to give it to him. Fists are made, and they’re being thrown at Risinger. He does his best to avoid them, trying to grab at the man’s arms. If only he could stop flailing for just one fucking moment. At this very moment, Jon does catch the other in his grip, and immediately throws him to the wooden floor. He slams down Lawrence, who is still wanting to bite and scream.

Sonntag gets back onto his feet quickly, going to throw another fist. Jon doesn’t understand, he doesn’t fucking understand. What’s going to make him understand? But again, he is caught under the grip of the other and immediately tossed down again. The process repeats itself several times. With each throw, the weaker Sonntag gets. And the less valuable time he has to render the situation into a good one. The last time Sonntag got back onto his feet, Risinger put his foot on top of the man’s chest, applying pressure. He wanted to verbally hear that the other has to calm down, or else he’ll throw his entire body on top of the hacker.

Always, always and always. Lawrence refused, trying to get the other’s leg off of his person. He wants to get away, and rescue his partner. They’ve barely been exclusive, which is why he’s so frantic to get him out that hell. It took a bit more time, but Jon was able to get a surrender from his co-worker. Good. Removing his leg the other huffed trying to catch his breathe. He turned, rolling onto his stomach now, trying to get the air back into his body. At this time, Risinger examines what he’s dealing with. Nothing special, or nothing to worry about physically. Though, he does pack a punch the first time around. One of those fists did land on him, but it wasn’t something to write home to.

Staring from above, he helped the worried individual back onto his feet when he was ready to get up. The other was calm now, trying to keep his anger down to a minimum. He didn’t want to startle Jon. Lawrence walked forward to go grab his laptop. But he was stopped when his temporary guest had grabbed onto his wrists. Giving him a worried, puzzling stare, Jon came closer, bringing those lips to the other’s ear. 

“When you’re done with your codes, find me. I know a great stress reliever for you.”

Dancing with the codes for nearly a damn hour, the man finally got what he wanted. He had picked up his phone, made a mocking phone call to declare the other’s innocence. If this works, Kovic will be here in the next hour or two. When the other end had picked up the phone, Sonntag spoke into it, heavily accented and all. It’s nearing three in the morning, and Risinger was next to him, watching something carelessly on the television they shared. The tone in the other’s voice changed when it was confirmed they had jailed the wrong individual. Hanging up, there’s so much relief in his system. Risinger was in a comfortable position, but soon changed when he noticed a smirk on Lawrence’s strong features. That smile, it could cut any rock, or gem. Placing the phone on the coffee table in front of him, next to his computer, he turned to Jon.

“Stress reliever, huh? Pills? I’ve taken plenty of those.”

“No, even better.”

Risinger changed position, so that he was on all fours on the couch. His partner stared on in confusion, wishing they had a second controller for the television. Put on something to distract himself from the person coming towards him. Jon’s close. It was too late for Lawrence to move, and not make things awkward. That slow movement shifted to a might pounce, and there he was. Risinger sat on the man’s lap, wrapping his hands around the other’s neck.

“What the hell are y-”

“Don’t speak.”

Later that night, Kovic had made it back to the apartment. He’s exhausted, having bags under his eyes. His body ached from the unnecessary roughness the authorities decided to give him. He just wanted to crawl into bed, be next to Sonntag, and talk about it in the morning after some coffee. Nearly crawling his way to the bedroom, he had opened the door. The light of the hallway gave a very visible Risinger and Sonntag in bed together. See, this wouldn’t be a problem, hadn’t he had found their clothing all over the ground. At first, he wanted to be upset. And Kovic has every right to be angry. But he accepted it for now.

He’ll talk about this with Larr in the morning, when they’re both fresh and awake. Entering the bedroom, Adam closed and locked the door. He didn’t want to change, he just wanted to get into bed, and forget everything. He did so, making his way towards his partner’s side. Getting into the sheets they had, arms instantly wrapped themselves around Sonntag’s person. There’s a bit of a groan, since he was already asleep. If Sonntag doesn’t like something, he’ll definitely show it. For now, he wasn’t. He embraced whoever was hugging him, putting his arms on top of their’s when he could.

That night was probably the longest any of them have had in a while. But new, and exciting doors are beginning to open.

**Author's Note:**

> I reblog funhaus [here](http://lavvrencesonntag.tumblr.com/) and make gifs/fics [here](http://sshithaus.tumblr.com/).


End file.
